Daemons and Parrys
by unwell14
Summary: Lyra and Will exist in different worlds, yet their lifes somehow revolve around each other. Pan and Kirvija communicate in the way of dæmons. When will they reveal the truth about themselves? Parrys,-John Paryy, Will and Will’s son- they have the spiri
1. Will Parry

Chapter one

Our world

He's 18. Young, tender age for someone to have a wife and it was an even a weirder age for someone to already have a newborn child. Yet, we are reminded of how Will was never the average American teenager. He had experienced and seen much more things of which he hadn't the likes to speak of, and knew much more than what should burden an adolescent. Sometimes the worlds would all come to him again, the valley of darkness in the world of the dead; the harpies and what they would like to hear from him; Iorek- the great bear king and his awesomeness; and when he stared at the snubs on his hands, the sensation of wielding the knife came back to him all in a flash. Will saw Lyra by his side, and Kirjava and Pan in loving embrace...

"Will, I know, but now, with Danny, please... Spare a thought for Chillie will you?" His dæmon pleaded.

Will looked at the majestic cat that nestled on his lap and sighed. "I want to... But its hard! It's so hard when I love Lyra so much, so much,"

Chillie was the new girl in his life. No, Will would never have the heart to forsake Silvertongue's heart, but a moment of flurry and passion of Lyra made him lose his senses, and now Chillie and the child she bore was his responsibility.

Danny, his son. Will loved Danny, like a father would love his flesh and blood, but he did not have the heart to give Chillie space. But he was a responsible and matured guy, who made no fuss in promising to care for her and Danny, for he knew that besides Lyra no one could ever steal his heart. He looked after Chillie like a brother would a sister, but fatherly love was all he gave to Danny.

"It's because you thought Chillie was Lyra that night. The night you made the foolish mistake of bedding her. And I tried to stop you, I did! But my longing for Pan gave in... Danny is a child of you and a self created image of Lyra," Kirjava mused at Will's love for Danny.

Chillie was a most obliging girl, and she knew that Will was a good enough looking hunk for her to call her own, so what if he didn't love her? Will saw Chillie innocent enough and he saw her with her dæmon- a white dove- as sometimes so Lyra-like.

He made a disgusted sound and shrugged his thoughts away, as he proceeded to hush a whimpering Danny. Kirjava regarded the happy home with some sort of disdain, and then she chuckled quietly and decided to leave them alone.

Decidedly, Will did not question Kirjava's disappearance. Ever since their separation in the world of the dead, Kirjava wandered wherever she liked to, but never telling Will. He understood and respected the dæmon's privacy because of the immense pain it suffered in the world of the dead. He had been badgering her to let out what had happened during the time when they had been estranged. However, she did not wish to utter anything about the experience, and Will took the hint not to press further.

But it was 6 long years. And every year he waited patiently for the incidents he so longed to hear from Kirjava's lips, but each year he was disappointed. The next day was Midsummer's day, and this date remained etched in his mind. He cradled the sniffling Danny in his warm arms, to which the baby boy snuggled, nestled and immediately fell asleep.


	2. Lyra and Pan

Chapter two:

Lord Asriel's world

She was 18 too. Pan, her dæmon looked at the well-bred, matured and elegant teenager, and was reminded of the enthralling presence of Mrs. Coulter. They mourned both Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter's passing, and Lyra was greatly affected by the way both parents died trying to save her. She had the Carpe Diem presence that Mrs. Coulter possessed and wielded, so lethally, and Will, her love-forever, had the commanding genius, and brains of which to match Lord Asriel.

Pan cogitated light-heartily. He suppressed a few muffled sniggers, only to find a half-amused, half-curious Lyra looking at him, bamboozled.

"Nah, it's nothing," Pan shyed away. But Lyra's penetrating gaze made him give in. "Here, here! What's with that look?" Playfully teasing her. "I was only wondering how you and Will are so much the same as Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter!"

He knew at once why he shouldn't have said it.

Lyra's face clouded warily and she shield it from Pan. Will was gone from her, forever. She toyed with the idea of meeting him in the world of the dead, but what good would that do? They wasted one lifetime, and while she had promised him not to hinder other suitors for her brave heart, she couldn't help but to yearn for his tender caress every second, every day. She never complained, though. How could she, really? It was for the best for Dust, for the best of the worlds; to maintain the standard equilibrium of Dust.

"Specters too, remember?" Pan whispered, listening on her thoughts.

And she did remember, distastefully. Shrugging it of, she turned back to Pan.

"No, Mrs. Coulter and I are so dissimilar! She's cunning, for one. Maybe she became nice when she was with me, but she was still cunning. To drug me to sleep! How is _that_ love?! And I'm not cunning." She explained. "Also, I have never, and will never support the Church. She has. And she has served them well. And, and, Will! Lord Asriel? Him? Impossible. Will would love his child like his own, but Lord Asriel hated me. He hated me, and died to save me because of what I would do to oppose the Church. Which I did, well, not for him... And you do know that, Pan?"

Throughout the course of her monologue, Pan spotted discrepancies but ceased to point them out. Lyra had been through turmoil, and Pan was there to sooth the pain. It was true though, that Will loved more than the committed Lord Asriel, but how could anyone deny, the fierce fire that raged through the both of their eyes. In the same way, Lyra enjoyed the hard grit and headstrong-ness that she had no doubt inherited from her mother.

"Pan, you know my heart aches? It's been 6 years, I know but time can't heal all wounds!" cried the burdened Lyra, only to find that Pan had left again. She felt lonely. Sunken, she striped her cheeks of traces of tears, and opened her Collage books once more.


	3. Speak

Chapter three:

"They're broken. It pains me so, oh Kirry!" Pan moaned. Kirjava flinched slightly at the nickname, but settled at hearing Pantaliamon's playful voice.

"It is their life, my dear friend. Oh how we thirst for each other, but never quenched,"

"You know it Kirjava. But how painful it already is for you and me! To know that we can communicate, but never really seeing or touching, oh how agonizing!"

"We found out, at least. This way we know each other is safe. Is this not good? Perhaps, but why live in ignorance, when we can live in hope for hearing Lyra's sweet voice again. I see how much Will longs for Lyra, so much that he cannot control his fleeting desires in a moment of stupor," Kirjava paused to let Pan sink in this stunning news. Then she continued.

"Will is a father. He needs Lyra desperately." And Pan could sense the urgency in his lover's voice. He gasped, despite himself, and wondered if he should be delighted for the new father, or livid at the human's betrayal.

Kirjava felt the emotions. Like layers and layers of worlds placed on top of each other, but never really meeting, Kirjava and Pan would have been next to each other- if they were in the same world. They were so close, and for that reason, Kirjava sensed the thumping heart of her aficionado.

-Lyra-

Lyra was aware of her dæmon's anguish. She lept up from her study table, and lashed words she would never have believed to be spoken. Pan was crying, and each tear created a sensation that trembled throughout her body. She winced in twinge sometimes, and she felt bubbly all over again. Anxious, she paced the room with quickening steps.

Where's Pan? What happened to him? Should I go find him?

Yet the taboo, or rule, or policy at both creatures held true resounded- If I amble, do not seek me, I am entitled my privacy.

-Dæmons-

"You had better return to Lyra..." Kirjava was so reluctant, yet they were so near yet so detached, how was she to comfort her very best friend? Words could explain and sooth, but a hug would be the best way to understand and cure grief. She sucked breath in subtly at this haunting discovery. "She'll take care of you, and I am sure she is feeling the pain now. You need each other; you need each other more than I need you or more than Will wishes Lyra! Please Pan, spare yourself the hurting, it stings me too, you know."

Pan sniffled very delicately, and returned to Lyra. Will needed Kirjava too, the female dæmon understood, and she made her way back to the London terrace.


End file.
